


Blonde Superman and the Olympic Fencer

by InkSplatterM



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Gift Fic, M/M, Olympics AU, burned!fencer!Jono, minor character friendships are awesome friendships, translator techie person!Doug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSplatterM/pseuds/InkSplatterM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So… He’s your secret scandal?” Kitty pryde said with a shit eating grin. She would know about secret Olympics rendezvous, what with her own relationship with Illyana Rasputin, returning star of the Russian fencing team, and the pains that Pitor Rasputin, Shot Put and Discus finalist and Illyana’s older brother, went to start rumors that the Rasputin Kitty was dating was himself.</p>
<p>“No, no he’s not.” Doug said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blonde Superman and the Olympic Fencer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoldenThreads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenThreads/gifts).



Their first meeting didn’t have to happen. Jono stared down the camera while Great Britain was called to walk in the Parade of Nations, eyebrows furrowing deeper and deeper with the amount of words that were stopping up in his throat. There was only one reason for the camera to be interested in him. Jonothon, a middle of the road player of Great Britain’s Fencing team, had deep, obvious, burn scars covering his face and neck.

Then blonde Superman swooped in and started yelling in French. Superman was rather lacking in muscles, and a head shorter than Jono, but that didn’t matter since the camera guy and his machinery was finding another target.

Blond Superman was gone before Jono could get out a “thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They kept meeting.

Superman’s name was Doug. Jono learned after the third time, finally able to ask for his name. He couldn’t work in his own name into the conversation, but Doug probably already knew it.

Jono was proven right the fourth time that Doug escorted him away from too many cameras after he had a win that completely shut down his opponent. He hung around that time, continuing to talk. Doug didn’t mind the short sentences. It was nice.

The fifth time, Jono gave Doug a note, asking him to dinner.

Doug said yes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So… He’s your secret scandal?” Kitty pryde said with a shit eating grin. She would know about secret Olympics rendezvous, what with her own relationship with Illyana Rasputin, returning star of the Russian fencing team, and the pains that Pitor Rasputin, Shot Put and Discus finalist and Illyana’s older brother, went to start rumors that the Rasputin Kitty was dating was himself.

“No, no he’s not.” Doug said.

“You’re blushing.” Said Shan, looking up from their schedule of events they needed to play support at. A knowing look graced her face, different, but no less teasing than Kitty’s expression.

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re lying.” Kitty crossed her hands behind her head and kilted her chair on its back two legs. “You’re lying to your best friend, and you are the worst liar. When are you going to see your Fencer?”

“… We’re going to dinner tomorrow.”

Kitty’s screech was high and loud. Doug was certain that every dog in a mile radius of their position was going to converge on them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So…” Stacey cooed. She was changing out of her swimsuit in Jono’s room, knowing that he was not interested in her, specifically, sexually or otherwise. They were good friends, never the less, having met accidentally four years earlier.

“So what?” Jono did lunges in front of the mirror on the back of his closet door. He stayed in the start position for a long moment, the struck out to the ending position like a viper.

“So your superman, the one that keeps dragging you out from under the vultures. You finally gonna knock boots?”

“What’s it to you.”

“I get to know that my friend won’t be a sad leather sack when this horse and pony show is over.”

“No. Dinner.”

“That’s like asking for marriage for you. Have fun.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They went to a little place just outside the Olympic Village. Jono was dressed in a leather jacket and trousers, looking more rough than ever opposite Doug’s near nerd chic.

Doug anticipated that they’d run out of things to talk about. He pulled at his shirt cuffs, anxious, but they couldn’t stop talking. They ranged from Doug’s Foreign Language video series for children, _Warlock_ , to Jono’s so far unstoppable rise in foil, epee and saber. They talked enough that Jono had to stop talking and pulled out a notebook to write in.

_My voice got fucked up by the burns_ , Jono had written, with a curl of his shoulders that would have meant anger on anyone else, but meant that Jono was feeling ashamed or shy. Honestly, Doug had learned early on in his media interventions to watch for anger body language from Jono, since, for him, it meant that he was getting over whelmed, rather than him being truly angry.

Jono paid for dinner, and walked Doug to his hotel room. For a long while, they stood at the door, not quite meeting each other’s eyes. Jono leaned in, his hands balled into fists in his jacket pockets, and kissed doug. It was short. Long enough to matter but still just short. It was sweet, a hidden kernel of affection tucked in a leather bound package.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you want your day off to be his semi final match?”

Doug looked as Shan like she was speaking Vietnamese. Which. Granted, Shan could speak Vietnamese, and French, and more. But Doug couldn’t speak Vietnamese. Doug’s talents with languages didn’t yet extend to Vietnamese.

“Your guy, Starsmore? He’s in the semi-final for saber. But he doesn’t have family here.”

“Yes, I know, he doesn’t talk to them.”

“Doug. They aren’t here. No one in those stands is here for him.” It was an overstatement, but the hard truth at it’s core couldn’t be denied.

“yes. I want off, if we can swing it. I don’t want..”

“Kitty and I can handle a few hours without you while you support your guy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jono looked over at the stands. It was reflex, almost, to check out the state of the crowd, assess the energy level in every face. He took a double take, the camera’s catching the head movement. Jono’s grin was fierce as he pulled on his helmet. The Camera next to him caught the moment.

The match was fast. The commentators remarked about Jono’s seeming distraction before the match, but that it didn’t seem to make a difference as he racked up point after point.

When Jono got the winning point he tore off his helmet with a primal shout and ran for the stands.

One jump, two.

Jono took Doug’s face in his hands.

The commentators laughed and crowed as Jonothon Starsmore, known for his surly demeanor on and off the dueling grounds, was kissing one young man in the audience on international television.


End file.
